


when the sun goes down

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, friendship feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It seemed like a great idea at the time. Twelve states, six friends, improbable shenanigans, one very beleaguered RV, a playlist with a lot riding on it, and countless attractions both of the roadside variety and the romantic one - what could possibly go wrong?As it happens, quite a bit.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 79





	1. Zuko and Katara Discuss Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> Blame the Zutara Defense Squad. I don't want to share Zuko's playlist quite yet, but I will sometime ;)

**Palo Alto, California**

**7:30 A.M.**

“Okay, party people, get a move on!” Sokka gestured to the hulking, rusted mass that was their death-trap of a rental RV with entirely too much aplomb.

Katara’s palm met her forehead, which was unsurprising, as they’d become rather good friends in the last hour. Zuko barely had the energy left to glance over and make sure it hadn’t become permanently melded to her face, as he’d done the first eighty-two times she’d facepalmed since their group had piled into the Beifongs’ driveway with luggage in tow at six-thirty. Once she’d regained a modicum of her composure, Katara called out, “you realize no one’s actually moving, right?”

Sokka glanced around the driveway to find that she was correct; Aang was leaning against the side of the RV in a half-asleep stupor, Toph had taken a seat in the driveway, and she and Zuko stood across from him, arms crossed and wearing identical expressions of disinterest on their faces. Only Suki, on whom a sliver of Sokka’s enthusiasm for schedules had rubbed off after weeks of hearing her boyfriend chatter about the group’s post-graduation road trip, was doing anything, helpfully lugging her immobile friends’ bags into the vehicle. “Well, you _should_ be!” he protested, gesturing at the diminishing pile of luggage.

“Yeah, maybe you’d get better results if you didn’t call us ‘party people’ at seven in the morning,” Zuko added. Katara glanced over at him gratefully. “I don’t think any of us are actually awake yet.”

“Well, that’s _your_ problem!” Sokka glared at them as he grabbed a few bags from their pile at random, promptly dropping one and huffing in exasperation before deciding to leave it behind. “You knew we had a schedule, people. We’ve got reservations! Do you want to lose all that money we spent on hotels because _you_ wouldn’t pick up your feet and get going when you were supposed to?”

“The twenty minutes it’ll take us to wake up all the way won’t make a difference,” Katara pointed out. “You people drive like you have a death wish, anyway. We’ll probably be early.”

Sokka looked like he was about to protest when Suki cut in. “Actually, babe, she’s not wrong,” she said, reemerging from the RV with her hands empty of bags. “Anything else to bring on before we head out?”

“Um…let me think.” Sokka glanced up to the sky to jog his memory. “We loaded the food and necessities yesterday, and all of you have your bags on, so I think we should…wait.” He paused, then took on a panicked expression. “Did you remember to leave my sour gummy worms in the driver’s seat cup holder?”

“Right next to the driving schedule taped to the dash,” Suki replied, fondly annoyed. “And we’ve got Zuko’s Takis, Katara’s Sour Patch, and my M&Ms in the glovebox for the next couple of shifts, plus five waters and a thing of Five-Hour Energy.” As ridiculous as it seemed to her, Katara knew how much it meant to Sokka that _someone_ here took his hyperorganized tendencies seriously, and Suki’s diligence brought a smile to her face.

  
“This is why I love you,” Sokka said, grinning unabashedly. “Okay, looks like we’re ready to go!”

“ _Finally,”_ Toph groused, peeling herself from the ground with all the grace of an injured moose. “I thought you were never going to finish giving orders.”

“Hey, at least we aren’t on the driving schedule,” said Aang, ever the optimist, as he helped her up the steps to the RV.

“Yeah, good thing. I was totally napping while he was explaining it.” Toph grinned and Katara did, too, simply because Sokka’s crestfallen expression was rather priceless – Toph was blind, and Aang had never learned to drive, but _God forbid_ either of them tune out the part of his explanation of the trip’s logistics that dealt with how they’d rotate shifts as drivers. “Just tell me when Sokka’s driving so I know when to hang on for dear life.”

“Hey, I’m a _great-“_

“No you’re not,” Zuko and Katara cut in in near-perfect unison. They’d picked the two nighttime shifts – Katara’s after dinner, and Zuko’s into the early morning hours on nights when they’d elected not to book a hotel for cost-effectiveness – which left Sokka with the morning one. Katara could only hope she’d be tired enough by the time Zuko’s night shift (which she fully intended to stay up for) was over not to notice the RV’s frantic pitching as Sokka took turns and hit ruts at an entirely unsafe speed.

“You aren’t,” Suki agreed. “Sorry, Sokka.”

“Well, that’s irrelevant!” he said, retreating back into the RV. Exchanging a nervous glance, Katara and Zuko followed, and soon after Suki took the wheel and the ancient, lumbering vehicle they’d call home for the next two weeks pulled out of the driveway.

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Katara remarked, leaning back against the bench in the RV’s tiny breakfast nook.

  
Zuko leaned forwards on his elbows, resting against the linoleum table, and sighed. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Enough with the huffy face, Zuko. I know you’re excited.” Katara prodded him with her elbow. “Right?”

He managed a ghost of a smile at that. “Yeah, I am.” A little nervous, Zuko played with the cord of his ever-present headphones. “I’ve got a new playlist for us to listen to.” Then he pinked. “I mean, if you ever want to stay up, I’d never ask-“

“Of course I’m staying up with you, Zuko.” Katara elbowed him again. “Can’t wait.”

_You might find it a little bit easier if you realized what this playlist was,_ he thought, but all he said in reply was, “sure you can’t.” And for neither the first nor anywhere near the last time since they’d begun to plan this trip, overwhelmed by schedules and destinations and feelings he’d rather not think about in a confined space with five of his friends, Zuko wondered what exactly he was getting himself into.

* * *

_Day 1_

_July 7th_

_California_

_Before I say anything, I want to get one thing straight: I’m not the journaling type. I never have been, and I certainly never intended to be. But when your favorite teacher tells you that it might be advisable for you, an incoming English major, to keep a travel journal over the course over your two-week road trip with the girl you haven’t shut up about in months (I haven’t outright told Ms. Kyoshi that I’m in love with her all-time favorite student, but I think she knows) in order to keep your writing skills up to par, you don’t really ignore her. I’m not in the habit of disregarding advice (unless it’s stupid, which almost all of it is), so here we are._

_There isn’t a lot to say yet. We’re just driving out of Palo Alto, so we’ll be passing over most of California today. Sokka is driving and I’m praying he has a change of heart about the schedule and switches with Suki before we get into the mountains, because I think this might be my last day in the mortal realm if he has to drive us through the Sierra Nevadas. Not much going on out my window, just a lot of farmland. If I were in a better mood, I’d go all John Steinbeck and write something poetic about the beauty of this region in all its prolific glory or whatever, but I am, in fact, in a terrible mood. And it’s getting worse, mind you! I just reminded myself that Katara hates Steinbeck with a burning passion, and now I’m sad again, so that’s always fun. I wish I could think about ordinary things like classic literature without my mind drifting to Katara, but it’s hard to forget about it when it’s so tied up in our history: he’s the reason we met._

_We were partners in 9 th grade Honors English, the one that had a teacher who was, like, unhealthily obsessed with group projects. In about October, we got paired up to do a partnered paper on “Of Mice and Men.” I thought it was okay, but man, did Katara LOATHE it, and I couldn’t exactly focus on writing when the prettiest girl my fourteen-year-old self had ever seen was ranting on and on about the book we were supposed to be analyzing right in front of me. But when I got home, I wrote like I’ve never written before or since, because I was a goner, and I just HAD to help her get that A. She was a fine writer, but she hated the book, and writing was something I knew I could do, so I stepped up. I was pretty proud of myself, even though we got a B+ and she pursed her lips like that wasn’t good enough, because after that she turned to me and said, “it would’ve been a C without you!” and hugged me, and suddenly we were sitting together in class and the cafeteria and her friends all adopted me._

_And now it’s been four years and we’re all in an RV together before we leave for school and everything changes._

_Everyone always wants to reminisce about high school, but I hate thinking about it, because it was almost too good to be true. I had good friends, I moved in with Uncle, I had…a surprising amount of fun for someone who’s generally like fun-repellent wherever he goes. I did backstage crew for the drama club with Aang and Katara, and played volleyball with Sokka, and took Katara to prom (which we don’t talk about because I don’t think she realized I was asking her on an actual date when I gave her roses and asked if she’d go with me), and planned this road trip. It’s been in the works for two years now, and it was mostly Aang’s idea, but it was Sokka who did the heavy lifting. He organized it all, booked everything, made sure we had all the supplies we needed – we give him a hard time, but he’s great. So…yeah._

_(Wow, that was really not what Ms. Kyoshi was suggesting when she said I should do this to ‘hone my writing skills.’ I really am uneloquent.)_

_And, of course, that whole time, I was falling for Katara, and it’s too late for me to do anything now, so there’s that too. It’s not like I haven’t tried to tell her, either. A few months into freshman year, I made her a playlist of songs that reminded me of her, trying to get her to take the hint and tell me if she felt the same way. She didn’t, even though she thought it was sweet and made me one in return. (We’ve been giving each other playlists ever since.) Then, I slow-danced with her at sophomore homecoming because she asked me to do it to make her cheating ex Jet (may he be swiftly incinerated) jealous after their breakup, and I was going to tell her, but I didn’t get to before the slow song ended and we had to run off the floor to avoid being crushed by people moshing. Then there was the prom thing, of course, which I don’t regret because everything I do with Katara is so_ fun _and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than her that night, but I wished she’d caught my drift instead of thinking we were going as friends. But none of those things worked, and I’m starting to think it’s fate. I have a month left with her and honestly, there’s no point._

_But that doesn’t mean I’m not still going to try. Not when I have one last playlist up my sleeve and two weeks’ worth of hotels, cheesy roadside attractions, and late-night driving shifts left before we go our separate ways._

_I love her. I think I can say that now. And even if it’s stupid and it has me writing frantically in a journal up in my top bunk and making undignified sounds every time the RV hits a rut and jostles my writing hand, I think I owe myself one last chance to get it out there._

* * *

**10 P.M.**

**Zuko’s Driving Shift**

“Hey, stranger.” Katara settled into the passenger seat, curling up on the ratty cushion like a cat. She’d taken a few minutes after her driving shift to shower and change, and she’d come back in an old volleyball shirt of Zuko’s that she’d stolen one day after swimming at his house and never given back. “How’s the night shift treating you?”

“Decently,” Zuko said, his cheeks going a little pink at the sight of her in his clothes. “May or may not have been eating your Sour Patch.”

_“Zuko!”_ Katara squealed, smacking his arm. “Those are for _me!”_

“Yeah, and you can get them at every truck stop and gas station in the country,” he replied, smirking. “How long do you think you’ll stay?”

“Please, Zuko.” She tried to look as if she was offended but her easy laugh made that all but impossible. “Did you really think you _wouldn’t_ be stuck with me all night?”

“Oh.” Zuko smiled softly out into the distance. “That’s nice of you.”

“Yeah, when else are we going to listen to that playlist?” she asked. “Or argue about cryptids?”

“Now, and…” Zuko paused, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. “ _Cryptids?”_

“Yeah! It was a game Sokka and Dad and I used to play on vacation,” she explained. “In every state we went to, we’d look up the most famous local cryptid and then do research and decide whether it was real or not. And then we’d all take sides and fight over it. We’d get so into it, trying to turn up research to prove our side.” She giggled at the memory, her face flushing with nostalgia. “Once I got to, like, the eighth page of Google results about sightings of Sinkhole Sam.”

_“Who?”_ Zuko narrowed his eyes. “And why does it not surprise me that you did that?”

“Because we’re all nerds,” Katara giggled, pushing up her glasses. “Famous cryptid in Kansas. But first I want to hear about this playlist of yours.”

“Yeah, about that.” He gestured for her to hand him the aux. “I kind of want to listen to this one differently than usual.”

  
“Why?” Katara asked, turning in her seat to face him. “Is there something special about it?”

  
He shrugged, trying not to give away too much. “You could say that,” he told her. “Anyway. I have a song for every state, and I kind of want to listen to one song at a time.”

“Oh, interesting,” she replied. “Is there, like, a correlation between each song and the place that we’re listening to it?”

“No, I have another playlist for that,” Zuko grinned. “We can listen to that one after mine.”

“Ah, got it. Well, um…play away?” Katara shrugged. “Better keep it quiet. Sokka’s gonna be pissed if we wake him up.”

“Do you _actually_ think he’s sleeping?” Zuko threw a worried glance back at the bedrooms in the back. “Here, in an enclosed space with his girlfriend and no chaperones?”

“Ugh, _gross,”_ Katara muttered, a little green-faced. “And yeah, actually, he seemed exhausted, so I do think he’s asleep. And not only that, but you can hear _everything_ in this thing, so if we don’t keep the volume down, he’s gonna get woken up.” 

“We’ll cross that bridge as we” – he pressed play and jolted, almost slamming on the brakes, when _I Write Sins Not Tragedies_ blared from the speakers with the approximate volume of the sound of a piano falling off a balcony and hitting the ground – “come to it.”

He frantically turned the dial, but it was too late. “You! Keep it _down!”_ Toph shouted, poking her head out of her bedroom door. “I just about fell out of my bunk just now and _some_ of us need sleep!” 

“Sorry, Toph!” Katara called, apologetic, as she glared at Zuko. “We’ll turn it down!”

“Yeah, sorry, that was an accident,” Sokka echoed. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Toph huffed, disappearing back into the bedroom.

  
“I-“

“Don’t say it,” Zuko sighed. “Please don’t.”

“ _Told you!”_

Zuko sighed. “Okay, yeah, I probably earned that one.”

“So, Panic! At the Disco?” Katara asked after a few seconds. “Any reason you picked it?”

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically, swerving to dodge what seemed to be roadkill but could also have been a mattress that had flown off of someone’s roof or any range of things that could’ve conceivably wound up in the middle of a rural highway in northeastern California. Katara clung to the armrests, trying to brace yourself. “After you listen to the whole playlist.”

“Oh, I see.” Katara grinned. “So it’s a puzzle?”

“Again, you’ll see.”

They lapsed into silence after that until she spoke up. “Pretty crazy to think it’s been four years already, huh?”

“Yeah. I almost don’t want to think about it.”

“Why not?” Katara tucked her legs up under her. “It’s been great, right?”

“Yeah, but what if that’s as good as it gets?” Zuko asked, glancing over to gauge her reaction. “I’ve never had real friends before you guys, you know that. What if this is the only time I ever will?”

“Zuko…” she got up and circled around to the back of his chair, looping her arms around his shoulders as she leaned her chin against the headrest. “You know you’re always going to have us, right?”

“Yeah, but not like _this.”_ He took a hand off the wheel to grasp hers until she gently removed it, setting it back against the steering wheel and trying to ignore the gooseflesh that rose on her arms at the contact. “We’re probably never going to be together like this again.”

“That’s true,” Katara sighed. “Change is scary. But it’s also opportunity, right?”

“Opportunity for what?” he looked back at her in the rearview. “To have a terrible time making new friends and get told that my writing isn’t up to par?”

Katara narrowed her eyes. “Who’s been telling you that? I’m going to fight them.”

  
“No one has,” he sighed, “and please don’t. But Ms. Kyoshi warned me that college professors can be ruthless about writing. I’m not expecting anything good.”

“But you’ll get so much better,” Katara pointed out. “I mean, God only knows I know I’m going to die in calculus, but I know it’ll push me. And that’s what college is about.”

“Easy for you to say,” Zuko sighed. “You’re good at _everything,_ and everyone loves you _._ Losing the one thing you’re good at and the one group of people who’s ever treated you like you matter isn’t going to be a concern for you.”

“Oh…” she dropped her chin to his shoulder, unsure what else to say. She’d always known that her best friend struggled with the idea of moving beyond a mold that had made him happy for the first time, but it broke her heart to see him put it so bluntly.

  
“Yeah.” He handed her his phone to pick another song and she chose his soft rock playlist. “I mean, I know I’m an okay writer, and I know I’ll always have you guys, but I’m no longer going to be a _great_ writer, or _with_ you guys, after this month ends.”

“So we make the most of it, right?” Katara said. “I mean…I’m scared too.” _Scared that you’ll forget me and I’ll realize I missed my one and only shot when I clammed up and wouldn’t tell you what you meant to me. Scared something will happen to Aang or Toph or even Gran-Gran and I won’t be there to help. Scared that I won’t find people who don’t think I’m annoying._ “But college is an opportunity. We can’t let the doubt stop us from figuring out what we’re meant to find, right?”

“Easier said than done, Kit-Kat,” he sighed, and she managed a tight smile at his affectionate nickname for her.

“Tell me about it.” She sat back down, kicking her legs back up on the dash and stealing a Taki from the open bag lying on the dashboard. “But I think I know one way to make it a little easier.”

“Oh?”

  
“Yeah, I do.” Katara nodded. “We’ll make a pact. This whole trip, let’s throw it all to the wind. No doubt, no hesitation, no self-imposed barriers. Let’s just experience things and do whatever feels natural.” She swallowed hard. “And let’s make the most of the last quality time we’re going to get for a while.”

“That’s…a lot better than what I thought you were going to say,” Zuko admitted, smiling to himself. “Yeah. I’m in.”

“That a deal, Zuko?”

“It’s a deal, Kit-Kat.”

“Great!” she brightened visibly, pulling out her phone. “Now…do you think Dark Watchers are real or fake?”

“Sounds fake,” he immediately decided, perfectly aware that he had no idea what they were. He did so enjoy a bit of contrariness from time to time.

“But you haven’t even-“

“Sounds fake,” Zuko reiterated.

  
“Oh, okay, if that’s how it’s going to be…” Katara grinned wickedly. “They’re real for _sure.”_

The game was afoot.


	2. Katara and Zuko Discuss Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is sleep-deprived in Reno; Katara and Zuko have a deep talk by the pool of their motel.

**Reno, NV**

**12:59 P.M.**

“Guys, I have an idea,” Sokka drawled, half-asleep and dangerously close to slumping into a plate holding a Denver omelet the approximate size of a car tire. No one paid much attention as they ate listlessly, downing their plates of cheap diner food with surprising ferocity for a group of teenagers so obviously exhausted that they’d have made convincing extras in a zombie-themed horror film.

“What is it?” Suki finally responded, rubbing at her eyes.

“Every dessert on the menu,” Sokka mumbled. “Get ‘em all and then-“ he blinked a few times, trying not to nod off – “and then-“

“Just go back to the hotel,” Katara told him, feeling rather responsible right now as the member of the group who was by far the least tired. She’d stayed up most of the night with Zuko, true, but she’d been the only one to compensate for her nocturnal activity with extra sleep in the morning. “I can take you. You need to sleep.”

“No, ‘s fine,” Suki yawned. “I got him. You guys finish your food.”

Katara wondered if she should be worried about this, but since the walk to their hotel room was about fifty feet through a parking lot, a trip up the elevator, and a few turns down the hallway, she figured they’d be able to manage. “Be careful,” she warned them anyway before turning back to her club sandwich.

“Of course,” Suki called back as she helped Sokka stand and, supporting most of his weight, walked him out. “Get a takeout box for my food?”

“Sure thing,” Katara told her, even though she didn’t know how well Suki’s syrup-drenched french toast would reheat in the morning. After watching to make sure they made it out of the diner, Katara leaned back against the cracked leather backboard of the booth, absently shoving room-temperature french fries in her mouth. “I don’t get why they won’t sleep,” she told no one in particular.

“Right?” Zuko agreed, barely awake himself.

Katara swatted his arm. “That includes you, Zuko.”

“What do you mean? I’ve slept!” he protested, gesturing with his fork. “I took a nap yesterday!”

“Mm-hm. A four-hour nap and that’s all the sleep you’ve had in twenty-four hours.” Katara crossed her arms. “And I doubt any of the rest of them did better, which is terrifying.”

“I got, like, six hours at night,” Aang interjected. “I couldn’t sleep well, though. Didn’t feel rested.”

“And I didn’t even try,” Toph said. “It wasn’t like I was going to be able to with the stupid RV jostling like it was gonna break apart every time we hit so much as a pebble in the road.”

“You’re going to be miserable the whole trip if you don’t sleep,” Katara chastised. “I know it’s not ideal, but you have to try.”

“Easy for you to say. _You_ didn’t get the top bunk.” Toph reached across the table to grab one of Katara’s fries, a skill she’d developed rather uncannily for someone who could never actually see where the food was. “Honestly, who gives a blind girl the top bunk? It’s like you people _want_ me to fall to my death in the middle of the night.”

“I offered to switch with you, Toph,” Katara reminded her. “I believe your exact words were ‘no, I like to live dangerously.’ So don’t even go there. And _you” –_ she gestured to Zuko – “need to be especially careful about sleeping if you’re going to be driving at night.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, waving away her admonition with a lazy hand gesture. “I’ll be fine now that I get a night in an actual bed.”

“And we’re heading out late tomorrow,” Aang pointed out. “So it’s not like we have to be up early.”

“Knowing Sparky, he will be anyway.” Toph smirked. “Remember that assignment we had in sophomore English where we had to write six-word stories?”

“Oh yeah!” Katara smiled fondly at the memory. “And Zuko’s was ‘I wake with the sunrise’ or something?” 

“’I wake _up_ with the sunrise,’” Zuko corrected them. “’I wake with the sunrise’ is only five words.”

“Same difference,” Katara said. “I mean, didn’t that Haru kid turn in a story that was seven words long and no one noticed for months?”

“Oh, I remember that!” Toph cackled. “’I needed to have my eyes opened,’ I think it was. And no one knew it was seven words until-“

“Evaluations,” Katara and Zuko finished in unison, grinning. The Dean of Students, Mr. Pakku, had the unenviable job of visiting every single class for evaluations over a one-week period to make sure that the curriculum was being taught up to standard. And he’d been the one to see Haru’s not-so-six-word story up on the wall where their teacher had displayed them all.

“I’ll never forget that,” Katara laughed. She cleared her throat and took on a deeper voice, imitating Mr. Pakku’s disdainful tone. “ _Mister_ Kuruk, would you _care_ to explain what this assignment was?” she paused for effect. “A six-word story. Hmm. Then why, pray tell” – she paused again, this time arching an eyebrow – “is Mister Haru’s story _seven words long?”_

“Oh, man, poor Haru,” Toph cackled. “He must’ve wanted the floor to swallow him.”

“That class was so wild,” Aang said, tired but a little more animated now. “Remember when we had to read _Oedipus_ out loud?”

“Oh, I almost forgot about that!” Katara’s eyes lit up as they always did when she remembered good things. “And Mr. Kuruk made you read for Oedipus?”

“I wished I didn’t exist,” Aang said, shuddering. “I’m serious. I’ve never wished that I didn’t exist more than when I had to read Act 3.”

“At least you didn’t get stuck reading for Romeo in Ms. Yugoda’s class freshman year,” Zuko countered. “It was bad enough that I had to do the death scene, but no, as if that weren’t enough, I had to get up in front of the class and profess my undying love to a girl I _actually_ had a crush on!”

“You’re kidding!” Katara’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Who?”

“This girl named Song,” he sighed. “She played Juliet. It was actually the worst thing ever.”

“Well, at least you guys didn’t have to deal with Mr. Feng’s math class,” Katara said lightly. “Now _that_ was torture.” She’d been a year ahead of the rest of her friends in math that year, and Mr. Feng had taken a job at another school before they had the misfortune of taking his class even though Sokka and Zuko had taken summer school and caught up to her that summer.

“Worse than APUSH with Ms. Lo?” Toph challenged.

“No, AP Gov with Ms. Li was worse,” Aang cut in. “I didn’t understand _anything.”_

“You know what really took the ‘worst-class’ cake, though?” Katara said.

“Hm?” Zuko stabbed at his chocolate-chip pancakes (just about his favorite thing in the world, which Katara found adorable) with his fork but didn’t take a bite.

“P.E. with Mr. Zhao.”

Groans all around.

* * *

_Day 3_

_July 8 th_

_Reno, Nevada_

_Road trips are overhyped: I knew this before we left California. They’re mostly just a whole lot of sitting around in a car finding increasingly less entertaining ways to pass the time between roadside attractions no one wants to see, as this one has been._

_But I was once again reminded tonight that this one’s okay, because Katara is here, and I would do anything – ANYTHING – to be close to her. Even endure an entire road trip, even stop at the world’s largest ball of twine (an actual thing she claims exists and wants us to stop at in a few days, which I’d never consent to if not for the adorable way her eyes light up when she talks about it), even lose sleep, even eat greasy diner food at 1 A.M. in the parking lot of our motel. Even enjoy all of that, solely because she’s by my side through it all._

_I know I should be telling_ her _this, not my journal, but I’m not about to risk making things weird when we’re stuck in a vehicle together for weeks. That’s what the playlist is for: by the time she figures out what I’m getting at, the trip will be almost over, so she won’t know how I feel about her early on and feel awkward around me._

_No. I’m not going to say anything, no matter how badly I wanted to kiss her last night when she was all excited about our late-night talks and ready to fight me to the death about cryptids. Or this morning when she stumbled out of her bedroom two hours after everyone else in sweats with her hair all messy and asked me for cinnamon toast, knowing I’d brought a toaster oven (the one unnecessary item I’d insisted on bringing) for the sole purpose of making it for her. Or when she fell asleep on my shoulder in the booth of that diner and I carried her back to the hotel like the simp I am because I didn’t want to wake her, even though she’d insisted she wasn’t tired. Or every time she so much as looks at me._

_  
I’m so far gone it’s not even funny. I don’t even have any snarky or profound comments about the scenery or the company or the ridiculousness of this entire thing to make because my brain’s too full of her to be clever._

_And you know what’s even worse? I keep imagining the best-case scenario and letting myself get totally carried away. Yesterday, we were all crowded around Sokka’s laptop watching a movie, Katara pressed into my side, and I was too scared to wrap my arm around her even though she was_ right there _but I still pictured us snuggled up together watching this same movie alone_. _(I liked the movie a lot better that way.)_ _I saw her reading this morning and imagined reading that book to her while she rested against me under the covers. She fell asleep on me at the diner and I thought about pulling her into my lap and holding her while she slept but I couldn’t, not with Aang and Toph there, not when I didn’t want her to know how happy she’d accidentally made me when she let herself slump over onto my shoulder. And I keep thinking dangerous thoughts, like how I could maybe have those things if I’d just say something._

_But those thoughts are dangerous for a reason and I bury them where I won’t ever dig them up and decide to act on crazy ideas like telling the girl who doesn’t realize she changed my life that the reason I’m having so much trouble letting go of the past four years is that I don’t want to have to think about a life that she isn’t a part of._

_  
So here I am, frantically writing on the bathroom counter of a dingy motel in Reno because it’s the only place I can turn a light on without waking Sokka._

_I don’t know when I became such a simp, but it wasn’t like I was going to be able to sleep anyway, so this is at least better than playing games on my phone or – worse – obsessively scrolling through my camera roll, analyzing every photo of Katara and me for the slightest clue as to how she feels about me. At least if I’m writing, I’m getting it out. God only knows I need to get it out. If I don’t say something to someone, I think I might combust, and since it’s not exactly easy to confide in people without other people finding out when you’re so close that you’re all practically family and tell each other everything – not to mention traveling in an RV together – this is about the only option I have. The last thing I want is to throw away my first real friend because I was selfish enough to want more. So I’m not going to. Who cares if it doesn’t feel good to hold it all in? It’s what I have to do._

_Which reminds me. I found this song a while back that had a lyric that reminded me of this situation: ‘so I’ll keep it inside, and I’ll bury it deep/I know it’s not healthy, but you won’t hear a peep’. Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing? ‘Feelings Are Fatal,’ indeed._

* * *

Katara always slept with her phone’s ringer on.

It was a habit that, even back at home where there was no one in the room with her to wake up at the sound of it, had been a little bit of a gamble. She’d often wondered whether she should stop, if making herself available to anyone who might text in the wee hours of the morning at the expense of her own sleep was too much to ask. But she’d chosen to keep doing it, eventually, and every night since October 8th of her 10th grade year, she’d left her ringer on at night.

(She’d never admit it, but Katara was never, _ever_ going to leave it open to chance that Zuko might need her one of the nights that he woke up in a panic with no one to turn to, dreaming of his father again, and not be able to get through.)

So, at five the next morning, she blinked awake to the sound of her text tone dinging softly under the pillow where she’d placed it to muffle the sound. Rubbing at her eyes and moving as little as she could so as not to wake Toph or Suki, she grabbed it and read the notification

**_Zuko <3, 4:57 A.M.: _ ** _hey, I’m at the pool_

 **_Zuko <3, 4:58 A.M.: _ ** _do you wanna come join me?_

Her heart somersaulting in her chest with worry and excitement all at once, Katara carefully untangled her legs from the sheets, threw on a sweatshirt and the flip-flops she’d left at the door, grabbed her key card, and latched the door as quietly as she could.

Zuko hadn’t said there was anything wrong, per se, but there’d never been any question as to whether she’d go. Her heart was racing as she made her way down the hall, and as much as she tried to tell herself this could mean any number of things – something could be wrong, or he could just miss their late-night conversations now that they weren’t on the road anymore – part of her couldn’t help but hope he’d meant something a little different by that text.

_Katara opens the door to the pool deck and pushes a chocolate tress from her sky-blue orbs as she gracefully traipses over to the water’s edge. Zuko turns to regard her, ardor and admiration burning in his golden eyes, and she takes a seat beside him. He looks over at her; “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says in that soft rasp of his that draws her so, and he takes her hand and kisses it. Katara blushes prettily and withdraws her hand, laying it in her lap and cradling it in her other hand, preserving the feeling of his lips against her skin, the electricity of the moment, and Zuko moves to lift her chin, locking eyes on hers before he leans in and-_

“Get a grip, Katara,” she muttered to herself, cheeks flushing. “You’re being ridiculous.” She knew she was, and that, even if he _were_ to feel the same way that she did, he’d be an awkward, stammering mess and not the smooth-talking leading man he’d been in her brain. But it was a rather enticing image, Zuko looking at her like that…

“Are you good?” Zuko turned when she arrived at the pool, the cool night air doing nothing for the flush in her cheeks. They burned even brighter now that he’d noticed. “You look really flushed.”

“No, I’m fine!” Katara said, her tone too high and too bright to be anywhere near convincing, as she settled down beside him, her legs dangling in the water. It wasn’t warm, but it gave her welcome relief from the heat she was feeling. “So…what’d you call me for?”

He paused for a moment, thinking. He glanced over at her but quickly looked away, hoping she hadn’t seen him; she had, and the flush in her cheeks only grew more pronounced. “I just wanted to see you,” he finally admitted, wordlessly handing her one of the earbuds connected to his phone. _Don’t Let Me Down_ was already about halfway done when she settled in - probably the next song on his playlist, she figured. “Is that not enough?”

“Oh.” Katara’s heart swelled because it sounded so much more important than he’d probably made it – that he’d missed a girl he’d be spending nearly every hour of fourteen days with enough to call her to sit with him at five in the morning, alone, before everyone else awoke – even though she wouldn’t allow herself to get her hopes up. “Um. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Did you think I wasn’t?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Katara admitted. “It’s just…you usually don’t text me so late at night unless you’ve had a nightmare or something.”

“No,” he said, barely more than whispering. “I just wanted to talk.”

“What about?” Katara kicked her feet in the water, hoping it would distract her from the heart-pounding implications of this whole setup. “Cryptids again?”

“Do you think we choose our own destinies, or are we just products of our environment?”

_Oh._

Well, that wasn’t very romantic at all.

“Um.” Katara’s eyes goggled a little. “That’s pretty heavy for five in the morning.”

“It was on my mind.” He shrugged. “You know…is it your choices that define you, or are we always going to be held captive by the decisions made by those around us when we were kids?”

“Well…” she hadn’t been expecting this question, but she wanted to answer it well. “I think it’s a little bit of both. We’re always going to be a little bit effected by the way we were raised, even if we try to overcome it. But we also get to decide whether we want to stay that way or not.” Without even thinking about it, she reached for Zuko’s hand and squeezed it, tracing the lines of his palm as she’d often done when he was at his lowest. “I guess I’d say that we get to decide who we are because healing and changing are choices we can make.”

“I don’t know.” Zuko didn’t pull away, but he didn’t meet her eyes, either. “I just…I look at my past, _your_ past, and how they shaped us, and I just can’t see us changing that.” He took in a sharp breath. “You were raised to be kind and you had to learn to take care of people, and that _shows,_ Katara. Even if you decided you didn’t want to be…nurturing or whatever, I don’t even know if you could. And the same goes for me.”

“Zuko…”

“I’m scared, Katara,” he admitted, holding her hand a little tighter.

“Of what?” she asked gently, leaning into him. Touch was Zuko’s anchor; taking his hand, leaning against his side, holding him when his world was shaking were the closest things Katara had to surefire methods of keeping him from spiraling. “Becoming like your father?”

“Not even that.” His voice cracked. “I guess I’m scared that…the way I was when you met me is my default.” He inhaled deeply, his breath a little shaky, and Katara rubbed circles against the back of his sweatshirt. “Because of the way I was raised, you know? Like I’m always going to have a tendency to be angry and afraid of everything and hurt people because I know they’re going to leave me anyway.

“You’re not like that anymore, Zuko. You’re _not.”_ She turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grabbing on tight and praying he’d never let her let go. “You’ve grown so much-“

“But maybe that’s because I had all of you,” he said weakly. “And once I don’t I’m just going to go right back to being the old me, and I’ll never-“

“Zuko, don’t you _dare_ think that-“

“You didn’t _know_ me before!” he snapped. “You don’t know what I was like. You don’t know how much I _hate_ who I was back then and how _scared_ I am of going right back to old habits as soon as I’m not around people who care about me anymore. You don’t _know,_ Katara, you just _don’t.”_

“Yes, I do.” A few years ago that would’ve hurt but she knew now how wrong he was. “I know you better than most people ever will, Zuko. And I know that you’ve changed, and you are kind and loyal and caring and sensitive and smart and determined and full of potential and, okay, a little hotheaded and kind of a simp, but most of all, the most incredible person I know, and-“

“Katara…”

“Zuko, it’s all true.” She squeezed his shoulders one last time and let go, meeting his eyes. “You have to believe that.”

“Okay.” He inhaled shakily. “I can try.”

“Good.”

“And Katara?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” He turned to her again, and though she didn’t turn to meet his eyes, she could see his soft smile in her peripheral vision. “I feel like you’re always the one comforting me. I wish I could-“

“Hey, so do you think Tahoe Tessie is real?” she interrupted, her face burning. “Because that’s the next cryptid on our list.”

Zuko caught her drift. “Hmm…I’m going to go with real this time.” He finally smiled, the tension beginning to melt from his face. “You’re on, Kit-Kat.”

“Fake, then.” Katara smiled, a little uneasy but itching for a good-natured fight. “So, what’s your proof?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when she's a natural caretaker but she hates being taken care of ;-; 
> 
> I felt like that was important to clarify because it kind of reads like she's putting way too much of herself into meeting Zuko's emotional needs when he isn't doing the same for her. She absolutely is probably emphasizing that and personalizing his needs more than is healthy, but he cares! He does try! He may not have the caretaker personality the way she does but he absolutely does try, and she doesn't really take it well. That's something they're going to need to address.


	3. In Which Zuko and Katara Discuss the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Utah, the Gaang gets a little competitive, and Katara and Zuko talk about their next steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was fifteen, my brother and I spent a good hour skipping rocks on the Great Salt Lake. I still have the videos of his better attempts that day; this chapter is a bit of an homage to a memory. 
> 
> Also, I really wasn't going to continue this, but @MaliaIsBoring told me to, so I guess I am. :p

**11:10 A.M.**

**Great Salt Lake**

**Outside of Salt Lake City, Utah**

“I already hate this place,” Toph groused as Sokka stepped out to pay for parking and RV barely managed to squeeze through the narrow park gates. “We’re a mile out and it already smells like a rotting carcass.”

“I’d say it was more like sulfur,” Aang said unhelpfully.

  
“No, rotting eggs.” Katara grinned wickedly, patting Toph’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Toph. I’m sure it’ll look just as underwhelming.”

“I wouldn’t call that smell _underwhelming,”_ Toph scoffed, crossing her arms.

“You can always stay in the RV if you want,” Suki offered, glaring at Katara. _Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one?_ She seemed to be saying.

“Oh, no, that won’t be happening.” Toph’s expression shifted from disgust to mischief. “I’m _really_ looking forward to shoving Sugar Queen in the water and making her walk all the way back here covered in a crust of salt.”

“That seems oddly specific,” Katara muttered, too unsurprised to be offended.

“Personally, I think it’s a great plan.” Sokka climbed back into the driver’s seat with a mirthful smirk that Toph couldn’t see but responded to anyway with a smirk of her own.

“I don’t know, Toph, that’s kind of-“

“Oh, can it, Twinkletoes. You _always_ take her side.”

“It isn’t that deep.” Zuko finally glanced up from the microwavable Kraft macaroni he’d been eating (a choice of snack for which Katara had teased him endlessly). “You probably won’t be able to.”

“See? _See?”_ Katara gestured furiously at nothing in particular. “He gets it!”

“Gets what, Sugar Queen?”

Katara didn’t feel the need to dignify that with a response; she crossed her arms and sank back into the breakfast nook with an indignant pout. Zuko, without a single drop of emotion, reached over and robotically patted her shoulder in consolation; she knew he knew it was meant to make her laugh, and though she wasn’t in a laughing mood, she smiled at him for his trouble. It was easy, then, to relax against his side as subtly as she could, pretending their closeness was only because of the way the RV jostled over the poorly-maintained roads leading from the gates to the parking lot. They stayed like that for the moment it took to reach the parking not, and Zuko’s free hand found its way to the small of her back.

  
She tried not to think about how _right_ it felt there.

“Okay, we’ve got about a mile of hiking ahead of us, and it gets hot early, so let’s get going,” Suki announced, reading off of Sokka’s meticulously color-coded itinerary.

Katara stood, then, already missing the warmth of Zuko’s hand on her waist. “Everyone got water?” she asked. “Bug spray? Sunscreen?”

“Bug spray, Kat?” Sokka rolled his eyes. “Even _I_ don’t have bug spray.”

“TripAdvisor said this place was full of brine flies!” she protested, but she realized within a second that it was a useless fight to pick and dropped it.

There was nothing more to say then, so Katara followed the group out of the RV and onto the dusty road, blushing at the way Zuko intentionally reached out her hand to (totally unnecessarily) help her down the steps. That blush wouldn’t really leave her cheeks even as they made their way down dusty trails, though it was easy to blame it on the midday heat. Still, though, she caught Zuko glancing at her with a little bit of what looked like worry in his eyes.

“You need water?” he asked, already reaching for the water bottle he kept in the side pocket of his backpack. “I have extra, it’s-“

“No, no, I’m all right,” she deflected, gesturing to her own water bottle. “It’s just a little warm, that’s all.”

  
“Oh, uh…that’s…good.” He nodded as if he simply didn’t know what else to do, and fell silent. No one seemed very talkative, really, until they reached the beach that spread out before the vast, shallow expanse of the lake. Its glassy surface and tis dull turquoise color didn’t give it the sheen in the sun that Katara had come to expect after all the days she’d spent staring out over the ocean, but the Great Salt Lake was beautiful in its own way – pristine, still quiet save the droning of brine flies. There weren’t many tourists here yet and the group largely had the place to themselves.

“Smells worse up close,” Toph assessed.

“Looks, worse, too.” Sokka scrunched his nose. “It’s really not that impressive.”

“Well, _I_ think it’s nice,” Katara said, crossing her arms and wondering why she felt the need to defend a _lake,_ of all things. “But…I think we could be getting more out of our experience than we are.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced over with an arched brow. “And how do you think we’re going to do that?”

  
Katara grinned and bent to pick up a smooth, flat stone she’d noticed lying by her feet. “How much do you want to bet you won’t be able to beat my rock-skipping record?”

“Oh, come _on,”_ Sokka groaned. “What are we, _twelve?”_

“Sokka…” she turned her most convincing puppy-eyed stare on him. “It’ll be _fun._ Remember how we used to do this-“

“At the lake out behind Gran-Gran’s? Yeah, I do.” That seemed to soften him a little bit. “What was my record, thirteen?”

“And mine was fifteen!” Katara crowed, holding up her stone like a trophy. A little competition would do wonders for his enthusiasm, she knew. “You were _so_ mad.”

“No, your record was _eleven,”_ Sokka protested. “Right, Suki? Back me up here.”

“No idea,” Suki shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she won, though.” 

“No, that was the summer that I went with you, remember?” Aang pointed out. “I definitely remember it being fifteen.”

“Fine, then,” Sokka huffed. “I guess I’m just going to have to prove that you can’t beat me anymore.” 

Laughing to herself, Katara stopped to scoop up as many rocks as she could find on the way down to the waterline and ended her journey with an armful of smooth stones. Sokka, who’d had the same idea, took one from his pile and expertly flicked his wrist to send it skimming across the surface – _one-two-three-four-splash._ “Hm. Not my best effort,” he commented, backing up a few steps and gesturing for Katara to take his place. “You?”

Biting her lip in concentration, Katara tried to copy the easy snap of his wrist (in truth, she’d won that rock-skipping contest at Gran-Gran’s when they were thirteen by pure chance), but it didn’t work. The stone sank a few inches to the shallow, sandy lakebed after only two skips.

“Already off to a shaky start,” Sokka teased, lining up another stone and flinging it out across the lake to skip five times before it sank. “Maybe you should leave this to the experts, Kat.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she shot back, sending another stone skipping across the water. That one made four skips, which she counted as a victory in and of itself only until Suki, who’d found a rock of her own, effortlessly made _eight_ skips on her first try.

“ _Not_ fair,” Katara groused.

“Sorry, I’m just a natural.” Suki’s teasing had no bite to it, unlike her brother’s, and she plucked a stone from the pile in Sokka’s arms to try again – this time she made six skips. Soon Aang wanted in, too, and tried his hand at the game, though he only managed to skip twice before his stone sank. He still shrugged, though, and hung back, filming Sokka on his phone as he tried time after time for a skip longer than his girlfriend’s. Katara had all but given up, but she still found a little satisfaction in throwing stones into the water and listening to the _plunk_ of the rocks breaking the surface. Soon, Zuko was doing the same, aimlessly throwing them for the sake of pure catharsis until they were both laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Do you know how to skip rocks?” she asked him after she’d caught her breath.

“No, never had a reason to.” He shrugged. “Should I?”

“It’s an essential life skill!” Katara teased. “Want me to show you?”

“Um…sure?”

She nodded, handing Zuko a stone and stepping to stand behind him. “So, you hold it like this,” she told him, demonstrating with a second stone in her own hand. “Got it?”

“Like this?”

Katara grimaced. Zuko’s clawlike grip on the rock would get him anything but the light, airy momentum he needed.

“No, like _this.”_ She adjusted his fingers so that they gripped the rock as elegantly and minimally as hers had. “And then you have to flick your wrist like” – she grasped her own stone again and demonstrating, sending the rock hurtling to a seven-skip flight that had her grinning – “this. Kind of like a frisbee.”

“…I’ve never thrown a frisbee.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Katara sighed. “Okay. So…” she placed her hand next to his, guiding his wrist with her own. _Nice one, Katara, offering to teach him just to-_

_Shut up, Katara._

_But-_

_Shut UP, Katara._

He cleared his throat and she blushed. She hadn’t realized she’d frozen. “Right, sorry. Like this.” Gently grasping his wrist, she guided it in what she hoped would be a repeatable example of the flicking motion he was supposed to copy. The stone skipped only three times after he let go but, when she stepped back to his side, Katara couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little bit awed. “Pretty good for a first try,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I think so too.” There was… _something_ in that look he was giving her that Katara couldn’t quite identify. “But I think I need-“

“Aang, _tell_ me you were filming that!” Sokka’s elated voice cut him off. “ _Fourteen skips,_ man! _Fourteen!”_

_B_

“Um…” Aang’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“

“ _Did I tell you to stop filming?”_

“Hina texted me!” Aang protested. “Was I supposed to _ignore_ her?”

“Um, _yes!”_ Sokka shot back, more teasing than truly indignant. “Bros before-“

Katara shot him a dirty look, as did Suki.

“Um. Sorry. Anyways.” Sokka cleared his throat. “I guess your girlfriend was more important than the skip of a lifetime. Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be…”

“She isn’t my girlfriend, Sokka!”

  
“Aang, honey, she’s your girlfriend.” Katara smiled indulgently and couldn’t help but snicker at the horrified expression on Aang’s face, as if he’d been caught committing a crime. Teasing Aang about his longtime crush on Hina Oyama, a classmate who he’d been hopelessly in love with her since they were paired up as lab partners in their 10th grade Forensics elective, was a favorite pastime of the group. She’d never really been a member of their group, nor had Aang ever made a move (though Katara had tried to convince him to), but he clearly hadn’t forgotten her.

(Katara was _rather certain_ she wouldn’t lose the five dollars she’d bet on Aang asking her out by the end of the summer.)

“Girlfriend or no girlfriend, someone has to film me until I get one right!” Sokka protested, and Katara pulled out her phone, glancing over at Aang with the _I’ve-got-this_ expression that they’d become so used to seeing from her.

She wasn’t above doing a little nudging, and besides, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get past semi-romantic rock-skipping lessons and _one_ of them ought to get their summer romance.

  
It might as well be him.

* * *

**_Day 3_ **

**_July 9 th_ **

**_Utah_ **

****

_How do you tell if a girl likes you?  
  
_

_That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? If I could answer that, I’d be rich. I’d also be either heartbroken or dating Katara, though, so I’m not even sure if I_ want _to know what her doing things like leaning into my shoulder for no reason and holding my hand to teach me to skip rocks mean._

_But I do wonder if she knows that as beautiful as the view out the window finally is – Utah is all color, red rock and wide-open swaths of sage-green shrubland cut through the mountains, turquoise lakes and endless blue sky – I’d rather look at her._

_(Agni, I’m such a sap. Why am I such a sap? Would Katara like to hear that, or would she think it was cringe if she knew how I thought about her?)_

_  
Anyway. We went to the Great Salt Lake this afternoon, and even though it was kind of underwhelming and there were flies everywhere and the place smelled like death itself, it was…sort of nice. It’s so still up there, so peaceful. And skipping rocks with everyone…I don’t know, it’s such a pointless activity, but there was something about it that made me feel like the whole experience meant something. That makes no sense, does it? Gaaah. This journal is quickly devolving from a writing exercise into a place to rant about Katara and I’m not even mad. I’m starting to worry that this is the only place I’m ever going to be able to talk about this, though._

_That's another million-dollar question: is this worth the risk?_

* * *

“In the mood for another one of your deep late-night talks?” Katara leaned into the armrest, as close to Zuko as she could get. He didn’t reply and her face went pale at the misstep. _Guess he doesn’t. Was he expecting me to forget all about that?_ “I’ve got another cryptid if you don’t!” she rushed to reassure him.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Zuko looked over at her with a small smile that she couldn’t mistake for anything but genuine. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” she wordlessly handed him a bag of sour gummy worms and he passed her his phone in return so she could plug it into the aux cord. She pressed play and glanced down at the title of the song – something called _Know Me,_ by a band she’d never heard of – and then back up at Zuko.

“I guess, just…what’s next?” he shrugged, as much as he could shrug with both hands on the steering wheel. “That’s what this summer is supposed to be about, right? Figuring out where we’re going?”

“I guess,” Katara replied. She poked at a crack in the leather of her seat, widening the gap for no other reason than to see it grow. “I mean, I kind of feel like I’ve always known, but…”

“There’s a lot that’s changed?” Zuko guessed.

“Yeah, that exactly.”

“So…where do you see yourself in five years? Same as always?” he asked.

“Med school, obviously,” she said. “That much hasn’t changed. If I’m not studying to be an OBGYN in five years, I’ll probably be dead.”

  
They both winced; she’d obviously been going for a joke, but it hadn’t been a particularly amusing one.

“Anyway.” Katara cleared her throat. “You still want to be a writer?”

“Or something.” Zuko shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m probably going to have to do something else just to make ends meet, but…I guess that’s the goal.”

“You’ll get there, Zuko.” Katara moved her fidgety hand to rest on his arm, the one place she knew it’d be still. “You’re really good, trust me. Someone’s going to see that.”

“It’s not that easy…”

“Neither is med school, and I’m still committing to that.” Katara crossed her arms. “It’s cliché, but you have to believe in yourself.”

“Sure, but I don’t believe in the economy.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Katara couldn’t help but giggle at the way he’d said it. “I mean, I get it, but…how are you so eloquent on paper and so _awkward_ when you actually talk?”

“Really? You’re going _there?”_

“I’m kidding.” She squeezed his forearm. “It’s endearing, if anything.”

“Huh. Thanks.” She didn’t miss the tiny smile that crossed his face at her words. “Well…I mean, do you have any, I don’t know, goals or dreams that aren’t about medical school?”

  
“In five years or in general?”

“In general, I guess.”

“Um, well…” Katara bit her lip. “I think I want a family, and I know where I want to live” – Boston, she’d told him a thousand times – “but…I’m so young. I mean, we’re eighteen. Should we even be thinking about that yet?”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to have dreams, does it?” he asked.

“You’re the last person I’d ever expect to say that.”

“What can I say? I’m a” – Zuko smirked very intentionally – “ _simp_ like that.”

“Okay, so what is this grand plan that _you_ obviously have for your life?”

“Do you want the socially-acceptable version or the cringe version?”

“Zuko, please. Of _course_ I want the cringe version.”

“Fine, then. I go off to school, start that creative writing program, find the girl of my dreams” – _that’s a lie, I’ve already found her – “_ and just…make the most of it. Figure myself out. Then I move to a city, not sure which” – _I’d follow you to Boston, you know that? –_ “and start working. Freelance for a while, find some way to make a living.” He couldn’t help but smile to himself. “Make enough to offer her a life” – he didn’t have to specify which _her –_ “and, you know…have one, if she wants that. Get married, get published, just…” he sighed, his cheeks reddening. “Be happy, I guess. Do what I love. Be loved.” _Love you._ “I can’t believe I _told_ you that.”

Katara’s smile was like the sun, though, so he couldn’t be too embarrassed by what he’d admitted. “That’s…really sweet,” she said, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers through his. “I didn’t know you wanted…all of that.”

“Yeah. Not a lot of people do.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Doesn’t it ever scare you?” Katara asked, leaning back against her seat without letting go of his hand. “The future, and all of that uncertainty? Knowing things won’t go how you plan them and having to be okay with that?”

“I mean, everyone’s a little bit nervous about the future, right?” he gave a noncommittal half-shrug. “Fear of the unknown. But no, it doesn’t really scare me that much.”

“You’re lucky,” Katara sighed. “All those plans I spent so many years hammering into my head…I’m _terrified_ that they won’t work.”

“Katara, there’s never been any doubt that wherever you end up is going to be, like…earth-shattering. You know that, right?”

“Thanks, Zuko.” She flushed and stared absently off into the middle distance. “I just…I guess I’m afraid I won’t be happy.”

“If you aren’t, you can come live in my basement, and we can play video games together while I’m procrastinating the writing I’m supposed to be doing until you get happy again.”

“Zuko, if either one of us has a basement, you know it’s going to be me.”

“True, but it’s the symbolism that counts, right?”

She patted his arm, trying to conceal the warmth that had bloomed in her chest at the thought of it – living with him, spending a little time being totally irresponsible with her favorite person in the world. It sounded perfect. “I guess,” she chuckled. “But…thanks. I might have to take you up on that.” Her stomach flipped and she added, “you got one thing right, though.”

“Oh?”

  
“You _do_ make me happy.”

He looked at her as if she’d hung every star in the sky. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Mm.” Katara risked leaning against his shoulder as she yawned into her hand, the late hour suddenly making itself known. “You seem so confident that it’s all going to work out. Why?”

“Well, the way I see it, my future can’t be worse than my past, so…all uphill from here, right?”

Katara nodded before the words sank in and she realized that she wanted to bury herself in his arms and never let go.

“Zuko…”

“Don’t, Katara.”

“Okay,” she mumbled against his shoulder. “You think the Bear Lake Monster’s real or fake?”

“Kit-Kat, you’re exhausted.” Before he could talk himself out of it, he took one hand off the wheel to brush her hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. “No cryptid tonight. Just get some sleep.”

“But Zuko…”

“You’re _tired,_ and we have a long day tomorrow. You should go to bed.”

“Fine,” she huffed, her heart melting and her brain too tired to resist. She lifted his armrest so she could lean up against him. “But I’m gonna stay here, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” He couldn’t wrap his arm around her, but he let her snuggle into his side as best he could. “Goodnight, Kit-Kat.”

“Sleep loose and be bitten by bedbugs,” she said with a sleepy smile. She’d started saying that a few years ago, the reverse of the common saying, for reasons she couldn’t fully remember but didn’t need to. All she knew was that it was _theirs,_ no matter how stupid; it was the good-night text she sent him every so often on the rare occasions when there was even a need to say it. She wound her arms around his waist, too tired to think better of it.

“I’m driving, Kit-Kat.” He smiled at the gesture, though she was too tired to notice.

“Sleep even looser, then.”

Chin tucked into the crook of his shoulder, Katara breathed in his scent and let herself drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that this is the softest thing ever, yes. I am very proud of that.


End file.
